


The art of living

by Everydayishark



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Biting, Blood and Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by The Walking Dead, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, The appearance of Hoseok, Traumatic Experiences, Violence, and other zombie related things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-12-31 06:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12126201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everydayishark/pseuds/Everydayishark
Summary: Everyone calls them different names. Walkers, the undead,Them, creepers, freaks. But let's just call them what they really are; zombies. Real, fucking zombies. We all watched the movies. We all watched the series, and laughed to ourselves, thinking that would never happen to us.But then it did.a.k.a the walking dead MX au no one asked for





	1. Of steel and skin

**those first few weeks, those were the worst. The fear, the panic, the confusion. Those first days people died left and right. We didn't learn to be careful yet. We didn't know we had to be wary-- we didn't know we had to sleep with one eye open. We hadn't learned how to fight, to scavenge, to survive. (We did, eventually, at a great cost)**    
\--  
Minhyuk wipes the blood from his knife before sliding it back into the holster. This had been the third walker already this morning, and he hasn't even finished his rounds. He sighs and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket. It is ripped and covered in blood and god knows what else, and there is no doubt in his mind that it smells even worse than it looks, but it is better than nothing. The weather is starting to get colder, and he is grateful he remembered to bring his jacket when shit started to go down.   
\--  
There are four of them now. They had been with more at some point, but they had lost some people along the way. (Who hadn't lost someone, really?)  
  
_Minhyuk himself had left home with his parents and his younger brother. He had watched them get torn apart not two weeks later while they were camped out on the side of the road. He had been alone ever since (that was, until he met Hyungwon.)_  
  
_How a guy that skinny managed to survive that long was still a mystery to Minhyuk. He soon came to learn that despite the scrawny exterior there was a fire in Hyungwon that kept him going. Minhyuk found him huddled up in a library, starving and dehydrated, but very much alive. They were wary of each other at first (you never know who you can trust), but neither could really survive alone, so they reluctantly joined forces._

 _It was the start of an unshakably strong friendship._  
\--  
**Everyone calls them different names. Walkers, the undead, _Them_ , creepers, freaks. But let's just call them what they really are; zombies. Real, fucking zombies. We all watched the movies. We all watched the series, and laughed to ourselves, thinking that would never happen to us.**  
  
**But then it did.**  
  
**You're never ready for it. You may think you are, but you're not. No one is.**  
  
**No one was.**  
  
**How many parents must have gotten mauled by their children because they didn't have the heart to put them down? How many of the sick and weak had starved because they had suddenly been left to fend for themselves? How many people were prepared for the treachery, as brother turned on brother for a last good meal or a warm bed?**  
  
**Too many. Too many to count, too many to mourn.**  
  
**It was easier not to think too much about it. It was easier to live in the now, to live from moment to moment and worry only about surviving another day. There was no time to mourn and remember the past, no time to look back. All they could do was push on and go forward.**  
\--

Hyunwoo joins in with him in silence. Blood drips from the tip of the axe swung from his shoulder—it seems Minhyuk isn’t the only one who’s encountered trouble. In the low light of the rising sun, Hyunwoo looks menacing. He’s built like a mountain—broad shoulders, massive hands, big—well. You know.

They walk side by side. Everything seems so peaceful at first light, like the world hasn’t gone to shit and for a moment Minhyuk almost feels at ease. Hyunwoo pulls at his sleeve, pulling his hand from his pocket to claim it as his own. Minhyuk has no small hands, by any means, but Hyunwoo’s hand engulfs his either way.

It’s nice.

The moment doesn’t last very long.

They hear it before they see it. The low, guttural growls, the dragging feet. A woman, or what used to be a woman anyway, emerges from the forest. Hyunwoo lets go of his hand, grabbing the handle of his axe. Minhyuk unsheathes one of his knives (if there’s only one walker, one is enough.).

\--

_Minhyuk remembers the first time he saw a walker. He had been terrified, unable to move. His parents sent him out to get water from the nearby creek. Before that, he had only heard what his parents had told him, and they had been on the run ever since. He had gone unarmed (a rookie mistake), holding a bright red jerry can._

_He wasn’t trained, not like he was now. He didn’t hear it coming until it came up behind him, snarling, drooling, teeth bared. He vividly remembers the smell—putrid, dead flesh, and fresh blood. It had recently fed, and in hindsight, that was probably the only reason he survived._

\--

The walker gurgles, advancing rapidly. They can be deceptively fast when they’re hungry. Minhyuk raises his knife, but before he can strike Hyunwoo swings his axe, the blade making contact with the walker’s head with a sickening crunch. It sinks to its knees, brains spilling out where its skull had split open.

(There’s something incredibly sexy about the way Hyunwoo handles his axe, but there is no time to marvel over his lover, because it seems the walker has brought company)

A small smile tucks at his lips. He doesn’t exactly enjoy killing (though these things are already dead), but the adrenaline rush after taking down one of these fuckers is amazing.

Too long, he had been prey. Too long, he had ran, hid. Too long, he had been afraid.

\--

_The walker charged at him, jaw unhinged, skin peeled back on several parts of its body, revealing bone and rotting tissue underneath. Their bodies were brittle, depending on how long they had been dead, but they lacked any sense of restraint. They were driven by a primal hunger, seemingly insatiable. They stopped at nothing to get what they wanted—and this is what made them so dangerous._

_The walkers never got tired, they felt no pain. They had no conscience, no morals, no law. Whatever part of them was human, it had died along with their body._

_But he didn’t know this yet._

_All he knew was that this creature (because that’s what it was) was going to eat him, and he was going to die. He stood frozen in spot, the red jerry can clutched in his arms as if it could protect him against any of this._

_He could feel its breath on his skin, its snapping jaw dangerously close._

_A millions thoughts raced through his head. He wasn’t ready to die, fuck, not here, not now. He wasn’t going to die a broke, single college student by the side of the highway. Fuck, what had he even accomplished in life. He would never have a job, a boyfriend, a life. He would never see his family again, or pet his dog. He would never kiss anyone ever again. Fuck, he hadn’t even had sex yet. He had never been in love. No. No. No. This was wrong._

_Finally, his body reacted, and he whacked the jerry can against the walker’s head as hard as he could. It staggered backwards just slightly, giving Minhyuk space to escape from the reach of its claws. It snarled angrily, its head snapping back in place. Minhyuk looked around frantically for something to defend himself with, but there was nothing but barren trees and a whole bunch of leaves._

_So he did the only thing he could think of: run._

\--

Minhyuk sinks his knife into the chest of the nearest walker. It roars, but the wound doesn’t kill him, but it does throw it off balance and the walker falls down. Minhyuk uses this opportunity to bring his boot down on the walker’s head. The soft mass gives way underneath his foot. The gargling stops.

There’s three or four more of them, in sight, and no doubt the sound of their fighting will draw more near. (They had long since stopped using guns if it wasn’t absolutely necessary because the sound would only attract more of them. Plus, ammo was nearly impossible to find these days.)

Two of them circle Hyunwoo. If this had been their first fight, Minhyuk might’ve been more worried, but he knows Hyunwoo can handle himself well. Still, you can never be too careful around these fuckers, and you certainly never let your guard down.

It’s time for bigger cutlery.

He unsheathes his machete. He’d taken it from some survivalist nut he found dead by the side of the road (missing the entire lower half of his body, guts strung out like spaghetti, face frozen in permanent horror, some survivalist he was). It had taken some time to get used to it (it wasn’t like there was anyone who could teach him sword fighting right about now) but it was sharp and it sliced really well, and those were really the only requirements he had.

He doesn’t wait for the walkers to come to him. He knows it’s reckless, but you become somewhat numb to danger when you are constantly living on the edge of death.

Plus, he could really go for some breakfast right about now.


	2. Of fire and fur

Kihyun stirs the pot. It’s a battered old thing (he’d once beaten a zombie over the head with it), but it does the job. He’d always been proud of his culinary skills, but there’s only so many ways you can make squirrel stew before it starts to become bland. He sighs. It’s not like they have many other options right now. Winter is approaching fast, and they have to save their canned food as long as possible. They don’t know how long they can stay here, or if they can stay here at all, but for now they consider this place their home.

They found this abandoned vacation home in the forest a few days ago. Most of the roof had collapsed in, the windows broken and boarded over, and it seems to have been vacant long before the dead came back to life, but it was (half) a roof over their heads and a place to catch their breaths.

Plus, there is plenty of furniture left behind to burn, which means Kihyun can finally cook them a semi-decent meal. (Warm squirrel stew is considerably more tasty than cold squirrel stew)

While they keep their fire as low as possible, it still attracts zombies. Minhyuk and Hyunwoo are still out on patrol, so Hyungwon keeps watch, perched atop a moldy couch with his gun in hand like a hawk. That is, if hawks were built like noodles.

(What Kihyun wouldn’t do to taste some fresh noodles again now, or maybe some bread.)

\--

_Kihyun was in class when a group of walkers attacked his school. Thank god it was culinary class—those expensive knives really came in handy. Not that he used them, at that time. No, he hid under his desk, petrified, as he watched his teacher get eaten through the cracks. He sat there until the screams died down. He didn’t know why they didn’t find him—he didn’t know why they didn’t kill him. As he emerged from his desk, hands violently shaking, legs unsteady, he finally saw the bloodbath. Pieces of his classmates strewn across the classroom, limbs ripped from torn up bodies. And the blood, god, there was so much blood. He threw up, shaking, crying for what felt like an eternity before passing out._

_Kihyun wasn’t sure how exactly he made it out of the building. He remembered flashes—gathering his knives, stumbling through the halls littered with bodies both dead and alive. He faintly remembered the screams, the crying, the sirens. He may have heard gunfire. There was smoke, and fire, and then he was standing outside. Confused, disoriented. Alone._

_So very alone._

\--

Hyunwoo is the first to make it back to the cabin. Minhyuk trails right behind him. They look tired, bloodied and hungry. They sink down on the couch, groaning something about having to deal with so many walkers before breakfast.

Before Kihyun had joined the group, there was no such thing as breakfast. None of the other guys knew how to cook (Minhyuk could manage to fry an egg, but that was really the end of his culinary talents), plus food had been hard to come by, and none of them knew how to prepare any of it.

\--

_Kihyun had tried to get back home to his parents, but as soon as word got out about the scale of the first attacks chaos spread like wildfire. Everyone tried to flee their homes—everyone tried to take their cars and make it to safety. It resulted in massive traffic jams, which were, in turn, easy pickings for those recently deceased._

_It was a true drive-by dinner. It was a massacre. Kihyun did eventually find a bus that took him near his hometown, but it had been too late._

_Everyone was gone._

_\--_

They patrol the surrounding woods in turns. Never alone, of course, it’s too dangerous, but they alternate between sleeping and patrolling in pairs of two. Ever since Minhyuk and Hyunwoo got together (Kihyun isn’t sure if they’re dating, but they’re fucking for sure), Minhyuk has insisted on going with Hyunwoo, leaving Kihyun with Hyungwon. Kihyun makes sure to complain about it (a lot), even though he knows that while they bicker endlessly, he can always count on Hyungwon when things go sideways.

Still, it doesn’t mean he has to _like_ it.

_\--_

_Kihyun learned to skin small animals on the road. It was dirty work, but it was a hell of a lot better than starving. Through trial and error, he learned which plants and berries were edible (he once spent a week vomiting after a particularly bad one, and part of him had wished he had died back then). He wished he had paid more attention back when he was a boy scout. Still, he managed, through sheer will and determination. He learned how to build shelter. He learned how to make a fire with nothing but twigs and some dry grass._

_He learned to stay away from big cities as they were overrun with zombies and looters and killers of all sorts of variety. No, the woods were safer. Sheltered, hidden, protected from sun and rain. There was water, and there was food (if you knew how to get it)._

_Life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either._

_It was livable._

_But he wanted to do more than just survive._

_He wanted to **live**_ **.**

**\--**

Kihyun picks up his spear. It’s not really a spear—it’s a very sharp steak knife duct taped to a broom stick, but it has served him well so far. (Kihyun likes to think there is very little duct tape can’t fix)

The others had offered to find him a real weapon, but Kihyun refused. This spear had saved his life more than once, he didn’t see any reason to change it. Plus, those knives were really expensive, and there’s no way he’d waste a perfectly good knife.

Hyungwon brings their only gun and a crowbar, and a few small knives for good measure.

It’s too early to patrol again, but Kihyun wants to see if there are any useful supplies left in the nearest town. Medical supplies, especially, are hard to find, but also anything to keep them warm during the winter would be a welcome sight.

And maybe something to eat that isn’t a fish or a rodent.

\--

**We still don’t know exactly what it is, or why it spread as fast as it did. They think it’s a virus of some sorts, but tests up to this point have been inconclusive. Resources are dwindling, fast, and the work is complicated and dangerous. Not many remain who are up for the task, even fewer remain who are willing.**

**At this point, aren’t we all just waiting for the world to end? Whether we go kicking or screaming, or willingly by our own hand, what difference does it make? We’re all going to die.**


	3. Of books and bone

_Hyungwon was studying for his midterms in the library. Or, well, he really intended to anyway. There was something about the soft light and the peaceful quiet that made him want to close his eyes. Just for a moment._

_It wasn’t the first time he had fallen asleep in the library. The librarian would wake him up when it was closing time, and he’d regret not studying again and promise himself he would definitely work hard next time. (He would not)_

_When Hyungwon woke up, the lights were off. Hmm, strange. Maybe the librarian hadn’t seen him this time, or she forgot he was there. He wasn’t sitting in his usual spot. That was probably it._

_He packed his books into his backpack and made his way downstairs. Using his cellphone as a flashlight, he easily made his way to the doors. His phone was low on battery, but he thought nothing of it at the time, because he was going to be home soon anyway._

_When he reached the doors, he found that they were closed. Not just locked, but he heard a chain rattle on the other side as he pulled on the handles._

_Okay. More than strange._

_\--_

The nearest town is a few miles south of the forest. They stick close to the tree line. Cars are parked haphazardly across the road, the owners either having left this place, or left this world. Hyungwon sincerely hopes it’s the first one (but knows it’s foolish to think like this).

The roads are littered with bags, clothes and toys and useless electronics. No doubt all of the useful things have already been taken. The remaining humans are like vultures, picking everything clean, taking what they need or what they want, leaving only bare bones and human garbage.

Hyungwon looks back, spotting Kihyun a few feet behind him.

“Keep up, shorty!” Hyungwon calls out.

Kihyun is very sensitive about his height, which is exactly why Hyungwon brings it up as often as possible.

“Fuck you, we’re not all giant freaks of nature.” Kihyun snaps back as he covers the remaining distance between them.

You have to stick together in situations like this. Hyungwon knows that, but Kihyun is just so freaking slow. Being slow _before_ the zombie apocalypse was annoying. Being slow _during_ the zombie apocalypse is what will get you killed.

Right. _Fine._ Maybe he’s not that slow. His legs are just too god damn short.

He knows he can’t help it. And that is _definitely_ annoying.

\--

**We don’t pack what we need. We pack what we think is valuable—we pack what is valuable to us. How foolish we were, bringing our computers and baby albums and jewelry while the world was ending. How foolish we were, thinking that any of these things would matter in the end.**

**We left our homes, thinking we would return soon anyway. We fed the goldfish and watered the plants, before closing the door behind us. We would never return.**

**We would never go home again.**

\--

_He didn’t start panicking until the next morning. He slept in a chair with his head resting on the table, like he had done so many times before. He never had any problem falling asleep anywhere, and he slept soundly. It was around 11am that he started to become worried. The librarian definitely should’ve come in by now, but the doors remained firmly locked._

_He heard sounds coming from outside (it sounded like screaming, but he couldn’t be sure). He wanted to see what was going on, but the shutters in front of the windows were automated and wouldn’t budge an inch._

_Only a small glimpse of sunlight came in through the cracks._

_He tried searching for another exit, but the emergency exit was blocked too._

_The doors were closed. The windows were closed._

_Which meant only one thing: he was trapped._

_\--_

Hyungwon sticks closer to Kihyun, which means slowing down his pace. There are a few walkers here and there (stragglers, wandering aimlessly until their next meal arrives), but they’re slow and on a safe distance, so they just let them be. Still, it’s better to be safe than sorry. You never know what could be hiding in or underneath any of these cars.

Hyungwon checks for movement, but he prefers not to look too closely to the things left behind in the cars. All this personal treasure—left behind like it means nothing at all.

\--

**Maybe we were too greedy. We were spoiled, kept wanting more and more. We surrounded ourselves with pretty things, and forgot how to live.**

**Maybe this whole thing is the perfect irony.**

**What would happen to us if we were reduced to the just the bare minimal? What would happen if we were stripped bare of all the things we thought we loved and needed?**

**We died. That’s what happened. We died by the dozens.**

**We were forced to live like animals. Scavenge, survive.**

**The strong lived and the weak died.**

**And then the strong died, too.**

**\--**

_The first few days were alright. He was bored, mostly. He lived off of a pack of cookies and half a bottle of soda he found in his backpack. It wasn’t much, but it was enough._

_But those days passed, and his food supply dwindled. He was lonely and tired and scared. He kept hearing things—and after some time he no longer knew if the sounds came from out- or inside. The darkness loomed and leered, teasing him. Things were moving in those dark corners, shadows in the corners of his eyes. He stayed close to that one ray of sunlight—his one cue whether it was day or night. His one cue about how much time had passed._

_He didn’t know what was going on outside—he didn’t know what was going on in the world._

_More time passed and he grew desperate. Something had to happen, something had to change, or he would soon pass out from dehydration and malnourishment, and he was afraid that if he did, he would never wake up again._

\--

He tightens his grip on the crowbar until his knuckles turn white and the veins in his arms pop out. They’re close to the town, which means both of them are on high alert. If you think walkers are scary, you haven’t seen some of the humans left behind.

The filth of the earth, with free reign to do whatever they please. At least the walkers are easy to understand—they only have one goal, one purpose. But humans, they’re another thing altogether.

\--

_Hyungwon registered the sound of bolt cutters. He was too weak to raise his head. He wondered if maybe this was the end—after all, no one knew he was in here, so why would anyone come to save him?_

_He had already gone over every possible reason why he could be locked in here, and none of the options were good. Still, he had to at least try._

_With every last ounce of strength he had, he dragged himself into the light. His body felt like it was on fire, every movement sending pins and needles through every nerve ending. He felt hollow._

_Breathing hurt._

_Moving hurt._

_Everything hurt._

_If someone was coming to kill him, he hoped it'd at least be quick._

_“Hey.” He croaked, before promptly passing out._

\--

**We are a kingdom of beggars and thieves. The king is gone—long live the dead. We are a kingdom of bones and fire.**

**Welcome to earth.**


	4. Of love and loss

Hyunwoo watches Hyungwon and Kihyun until they are out of sight. He can’t help but be worried about them—they’re stronger as a group, and each time they’re separated it leaves them more vulnerable. He knows they need supplies, but he would’ve felt more comfortable if they had all gone together.

(“No way.” Kihyun says. “We need someone to watch our stuff and guard the house.”

Hyunwoo sighs. He will likely be on edge until they’re back. Still, it’s nice to have some time alone with Minhyuk.

\--

_Hyunwoo had to watch his little sister. She was only 3 years old. She didn’t understand why they had to stay inside. She didn’t understand why she had to be quiet all the time._

_She wailed incessantly. So he let her go out into the backyard. Just for a minute. Their backyard was fenced, so he figured if she stayed quiet it would be okay._

_It was okay. It would’ve been okay. Until she tripped and fell, and started crying._

_He didn’t know walkers could climb. They hadn’t—up to this point._

_The walker was on her before he could get to her. Helpless, he watched as it sank its teeth in her neck._

_\--_

When he gets back into the house, he finds Minhyuk cleaning himself in the kitchen. Without running water they have to make do with a bucket of (ice cold) water and an old t-shirt as a wash cloth. Hyunwoo leans against the doorpost, admiring his naked figure.

He isn’t sure exactly when they started to sleep together. The attraction is there from the moment they meet, but love (or sex) isn’t exactly a priority when you’re running for your life.

It starts as a way to feel comfort. A way to feel safe. A way to feel close to someone in a time where everyone is miserable and afraid.

It isn’t easy. Hyunwoo is terrified to open up again, and it takes a long time before he allows Minhyuk to be close.

He walks up to Minhyuk, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind, warm hands meeting cold skin. Minhyuk sinks into his embrace, nuzzling up against him. He leans his head against Hyunwoo’s shoulder, who bends his head down to kiss his lips. Soft, sweet nipping quickly turns into something more heated.

He takes off his clothes, the floor cold and hard as he lays down on it. Minhyuk straddles him, his hands exploring the now-familiar terrain of his body.

\--

_Terrified, he watched as the creature bit down. The sound of breaking skin and snapping tendons and the crunch of bones filled the air. It was not a quick death. Horrified, he watched it pry her open like a human piñata. She cried, struggling to get away._

_Dazed, he registered his mother's screaming behind him. He heard the sound of a gunshot, and someone rushing past him. But it was too late._ __  
  
The crying stopped.  
  
There was his little sister, still clutching onto her favorite doll, crumpled and lifeless on the grass.  
  
A gaping hole where her neck used to be, held together only by a few threads of skin and bone.  
\--

**There is no redemption.**

**There is no cure, no safe haven, no solution.**

**There is no future for humanity.**

**We will die. We will perish.**

**It’s just a matter of time.**

\--

After sex, Minhyuk settles in Hyunwoo’s arms. Neither of them speaks, but it’s a comfortable silence. It’s the unspoken confirmation he needs. (He can still be loved. He can be close to someone. He doesn’t have to be alone.)

Hyunwoo unconsciously cards his fingers through Minhyuk’s hair. It’s a small gesture, soft and affectionate, seemingly meaningless. But before, he would’ve never let himself feel this comfortable. Before, he would’ve never allowed himself to be this close.

\--

 _His parents said they didn't blame him, but he could see it in their eyes. He had killed their little girl. He had fed her to the monsters-- he might as well have murdered her with his own hands._ __  
  
Eventually, the intense feeling of guilt drove him from home. Aimlessly, he wandered through the city, hiding out in abandoned buildings and eating whatever he could find. After witnessing a robbery gone wrong, he decided to leave the city for a less inhabited and more sheltered environment. 

_Roadsides, abandoned truck stops and trees are his home for weeks, before promptly being held at knife point in a forest by a certain short, feral-looking, knife-wielding man._

_This is how Hyunwoo met Kihyun._

_Right before they got swarmed by a large group of walkers._

_\--_

Hyunwoo rarely talks about his past. Neither of them really like to reminisce about the things and people they’ve lost, but Hyunwoo remains the most secretive of them all. Only Minhyuk knows the full truth—Hyunwoo shares his story once, and only once, on a quiet night as they lay in bed after sex.

They’ve all been through hell, but Hyunwoo’s story breaks Minhyuk’s heart, and from that moment forward, he never leaves his side.

\--

_They didn’t team up willingly. It was a reluctant partnership forged out of necessity. There was no way they could beat the swarm on their own. Kihyun might have been able to outrun them, but for how long?_

_No. Kihyun was done running and hiding._

_And Hyunwoo just happened to be there._

_There was no time to argue._

_Kihyun jolted up, plunging the knife he threatened Hyunwoo with mere seconds before in the nearest walker's chest. Hyunwoo dropped his bag and grabbed the first thing he could find within reach, which happened to be a fallen branch. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it was sturdy enough and it kept the walkers out of reach._

_He wasn't sure how the walkers snuck up on them. They weren't exactly quiet, or subtle in their approach, and yet they had managed to catch them by surprise._

_Hyunwoo cursed under his breath, swatting at the walkers that just kept on coming. Kihyun jumped from walker to walker, wielding his kitchen knife like some tiny Korean forest Rambo. Hyunwoo wondered how long he had been here (His appearance suggested: long), holed up in the forest. How long had he survived here on his own?_

_There was no time to think._

\--

**There is nowhere to hide.**

**We have gone to the ends of the world and back, and it didn't make a single difference. North to South, East to West, the whole word has gone to shit.**

**When islands were rumored to be safe, the islands were overrun. The oceans became infested. They hide in the water, they hide in the sand, they hide on the mountains, waiting for us to be stupid enough to believe we are safe.**

**Nowhere is safe.**

**No one is safe.**

__  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was hell to write OTL   
> why did I start another chaptered fic :')


	5. Of scars and safety

Minhyuk winces as he pulls his pants back up. Whenever the weather gets colder, his old knee injury tends to play up, and the pain has been whining and constant ever since they arrived at the cold, drafty house. It was a nuisance before the dead came back to life-- it's potentially lethal now. Plus, before, when the pain got too bad, he could take some painkillers. Now, their supply is too limited, and Minhyuk doesn't want to waste them on something that _technically_ won't kill him.

 

(The walkers might, because he can barely put weight on his leg and running is near-impossible)

 

When Hyunwoo looks up, Minhyuk quickly smiles. He doesn't want to show his pain, he doesn't want to slow them down. They all have their own burdens to bear.

\--

**How do we turn? A scratch? A bite? Sure. It’s the fastest way.**

**But get shot by a person? Hang yourself by a rope? Die of a heart attack? Same difference.**

**Whether you die by a zombie or a person or natural reasons, it’s all the same in the end. At some point, we just stopped staying dead.**

**Those who were dead before remain dead. What are the rules? Why is this happening to us? We don’t know.**

\--

_The library seemed like a safe place to hide. The windows and doors were all still intact, and it was dark and quiet which was usually a good sign. There was a chain on the door, but it Minhyuk guessed it served to keep things out rather than in. (At least, he sincerely hoped so.)_

 

_The cities weren't safe, the buildings that weren't looted or destroyed had been overrun. And yet somehow, amidst all of the chaos, was this building, still completely intact. It seemed to good to be true, but maybe it had just been left alone before there was no food or valuables to steal here._

 

_There was no need for knowledge and entertainment. People needed weapons and food and medical supplies._

 

_Which made it the perfect hide-out._

\--

**Zombies come in all shapes and sizes. After all, they're like people, but more dead, but there's a gradation in the decay.**

 

**Those recently deceased are a lighter grey, skins translucent and veiny. Depending on the manner of death, their skins are usually unblemished, their bodies intact. The pupils in their eyes are milky, but still clear.**

 

**The longer they've been dead, the worse they look. Their bodies decay. The flesh rots to a deep, dark greyish brown. Their skin rips. Their organs shrivel. They lose their nails, their hair, and eventually, their teeth. Their eyes are so clouded over they eventually lose their sight completely. They damage their bodies, lose limbs. And even with nearly nothing left, they still keep going.**

\--

_Thank god Minhyuk found a pair of bolt cutters a few towns back. He didn't carry any real weapon so to speak of, so the oversized scissors were a welcome find. If it could cut through steel, then surely it could also cut off some walker's limbs._

 

_With ease he cut through the chains holding the library's emergency exit closed. He kicked the door open with his foot, keeping the bolt cutters raised. If there were any walkers inside, the sound of the breaking chains would send them running, and he wanted to be prepared._

 

_But nothing came. Instead, he was greeted by a weak 'hey' coming from the vast darkness._

\--

Minhyuk carefully hooks his knife sheaths back on his belt. He runs a finger along the scars on his arms, shoulders, chest and stomach. Before all of this went down, he had been a smooth canvas. He had been called a pretty boy on multiple occasions. He lived a good, sheltered life.

 

His arms hadn't known hard labor, his hands hadn't known how to fight. His face hadn't been hardened by constant exposure to the elements. His body hadn't known hardships, or hunger, or the pain of open, untreated wounds.

 

The worst pain he'd known would have been his knee, or maybe a particularly bad tooth-ache, but nothing like this, nothing like now.

 

Then again, he doesn't think anything could have prepared him for this.

\--

_He considered turning around the moment he heard the voice, but decides against it. If it was only one person, he could probably handle it. Besides, the voice didn't sound exactly menacing. (Not that that was a guarantee that they weren't, but it was as good a first guess as any)_

 

_Carefully, with raised bolt cutters, he made his way through the pitch black library, following the only sliver of light he could see. He didn't hear the voice again, which could be both a good and a bad thing. Either they had left, or they were about to ambush him and feed him to the walkers._

 

_In the low light, he could make out a shape close to one of the windows. It didn't appear to be moving, so possible it was just another dead body, but he knew he had to check just to make sure. (He wasn't about to be bit in the ass by some low-lying walker in the dark.)_

\--

When Hyunwoo trails his fingers along the map of his skin, he looks at him like he's the most beautiful thing in the world. Minhyuk doesn't get it. Before, maybe, but not now. Now he is damaged, a run-down and dirty husk of his former self.

 

He knows Hyunwoo would like them to be more. He doesn't say it (he doesn't want to be the person who anguishes over not having a boyfriend/fiancée/husband in the zombie apocalypse), but Minhyuk knows. If this was before, he would've said yes. There is not a moment of doubt in his mind.

 

But Minhyuk is too scared to lose him. It's bad enough to lose a lover-- he doesn't think he could bear losing a husband. Besides, who is going to marry them now anyway?

 

Maybe, after all of this is over, they could settle down somewhere nice. Maybe, if any of this would ever be over, there could be a future for the two of them.

\--

_The unmoving shape turned out to be a body. Not a dead one, though he appeared to be close. When Minhyuk poked at it with his foot, it wheezed._

 

_This is how he met the man called Hyungwon_


	6. Of strangers and salvation

"Please. You can't leave me here."

 

The man clings to Kihyun's leg, his voice thick with despair.

 

"Step. Away. From my tiny friend." Hyungwon growls, pressing the barrel of his gun against the back of the man's head. The man whimpers, crawling back into the corner they had found him in.

 

“Please. I don’t wanna die. Please. Please.” He begs, bursting into tears. His hair is caked to his head with blood and dirt. The tears stream down, leaving crimson streaks on his cheeks.

\--

_“Please. I need to get home.” Kihyun pleaded._

 

_“Don’t we all.” The reply was as the owner of the car rolled his window up and drove away with screeching tires, leaving Kihyun standing on the grass in front of the university._

 

_More cars arrived. More cars left. No one wanted to take him. No one wanted to help anyone but themselves._

 

_He understood. He really did. People were scared. He was scared. He didn’t understand what just happened—he didn’t know what was going on. He just wanted to go home._

 

_He **needed** to go home. He just didn’t know how._

\--

They search the entire town, but there is hardly anything left. They find a few cans of food, a roll of duct tape and a long-expired bottle of painkillers. (It’s better than nothing, but it’s certainly not enough)

 

Hyungwon complains about having walked all the way here for nothing, listing all the reasons as to why Kihyun is to blame (as usual). Kihyun has learned not to listen to most of the things Hyungwon says. It has greatly reduced his anger attacks. He tunes out the annoying buzzing that is Hyungwon’s voice, and instead he finds… peace.

 

It was kind of like seeing the light, except the world is dark and filled with terror and death and people like Hyungwon.

\--

_Kihyun ran along the steady stream of cars, pounding on the windows, begging to let him in. He didn’t care where they went, as long as they took him in the right direction, as long as they took him away from the school._

 

_But no one trusted anyone. No one would open up their doors to a stranger. Kihyun ran until his lungs burned in his chest and his feet wouldn't take him any further. When he looked back he could no longer see his school._

 

_And yet he was nowhere closer to his home town. Dejected, he sat down by the side of the road while cars chased by, and for the first time he realized something._

 

_He was utterly alone._

\--

**Those first days, paranoia ran rampant. We only thought about ourselves, even if this came at a terrible price for someone else. We were selfish. We were cold, and we were heartless. We put on our blinders and refused to look back.**

 

**Maybe this is what we had to do, in order to survive. We had to learn, we had to adept. Maybe this was the only way we could have lived.**

 

**Maybe we chose to live** **. Maybe we chose to become the monsters we so feared.**

 

**Or maybe we had been monsters all along.**

**\--**

A noise breaks Kihyun from his meditative state. He motions for Hyungwon to stop talking, then points in the direction of the noise. Hyungwon nods. They press against the nearest wall, hiding behind leftover rubble. (In moments like these they effortlessly synchronize.)

 

A few moments later, two people come into view. They walk casually, unafraid, armed to the teeth but not actively engaged. It’s the gait of men who own these streets. The gait of men who fought, and won.

 

The gait of dangerous men.

\--

_Kihyun walked for what felt like an eternity, but in reality it probably came close to a few days. He stole some food and water from an abandoned gas station along the way. The crowded urban roads gave way to smaller country roads. Bright neon lights gave way to the light of the stars. Crowded buildings exchanged for trees and fields of green._

_Kihyun was beyond tired, but he wouldn’t stop walking. At some point he broke through the soles of his shoes, and he didn’t even notice. He would only allow himself brief moments of rest, to eat and drink. He hadn’t slept since he left the school, not knowing what was out there hiding in the dark._

_He sat down at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere, unpacking his rapidly dwindling rations, when suddenly, he heard the sound of tires turning on gravel. And soon after that, he saw head lights heading his way._

_A bus. A real, actual bus._

_He shouldn’t have hope. He **didn’t** have hope. And yet, hoping for nothing in particular, he stood up and put up his thumb._

_He must be going crazy. He really must be. Because the bus seemed to be slowing down._

_And against all odds, it stopped, and opened its doors._

\--

As quietly as possible, they slide into the nearest building. They’re not equipped to fight, and they don’t want any trouble, but they _did_ just take stuff from these guys’ territory. Kihyun guesses they probably don’t look too kindly upon thieves.

 

Upon closer inspection, they seem to have walked into a furniture store. Crouching behind dusty couches and broken chairs, they make their way to the back, hoping for a back entrance they can escape from.

 

They see a door in the furthest wall, but before they can reach it, something moves in the corner.

\--

_A wrinkled old face smiled from within the opened doors. Bright lights and a comfortable warmth beckoned at him from inside. Kihyun winced at the brightness as he hesitantly steps in. He still wasn’t sure if this was a dream—it sure as hell felt like one. He looked at the man behind the wheel with big, questioning eyes, unable to form the question. **(Why?)**_

_As if knowing exactly what he was going to ask, the man explained he was a retired bus driver. He figured if he was going to die soon anyway (He shook his head at Kihyun’s alarmed look. “Bone cancer.” He smiled wryly), he could at least help some people out on the way._

_He planned on driving himself to a remote location, one where he couldn’t hurt any of his loved ones. One where he could die in peace._

_He knew he was close, so he took one of his old company’s buses, and he had been driving around ever since._

_His bus was filled with stragglers, found along the way. Alone, desperate, afraid. All he had to offer was a seat, but it was more than enough._

_More than Kihyun could ever thank him for._

\--

The _something_ turns out to be a man, crawling from out the darkness. His leg appears to be wounded, judging from the way he drags himself forward.

 

Immediately, Hyungwon cocks his gun. “Hold it right there!”

 

The man freezes in place. When he raises his head, a pair of frightened, tearful eyes look up. He doesn’t appear to be armed, but you can never be too sure.

 

“Are you with _them_?” Hyungwon asks. The man shakes his head.

 

“No! No! I took something…. I was running away from them when my foot got caught on something. I fell and hit my head.”

 

“How do we know you’re not just trying to trick us?” Kihyun interjects.

 

“Just…. Search me. I’m wounded and unarmed. Please, you have to help me!”

 

“We have to do no such thing.” Hyungwon gives a short nod from Kihyun to the stranger. “You search him.”

 

Kihyun is about to sputter in protest, but it’s safer to have Hyungwon keep watch. Besides, he has the gun.

\--

_Kihyun silently looked out of the window while the starry skies rolled by. He was thankful, more thankful than he could ever express, to be inside in relative safety and warmth. He was grateful not to have to walk anymore, because his mind might have been able to walk further, his body was on the brink of collapse._

_He hadn’t dared closing his eyes while he was walking, but with the gentle humming of the motor as a lullaby and the window as his pillow, he quickly drifted off into sleep. He slept deep and dreamless._

_When he woke up, the sun was high in the sky, and the rural landscape had been exchanged for the suburbs of a city. He recognized it—they must not be far from his hometown. They stopped a few more times that day—to let people off and to pick up more wanderers._

_They didn’t stop for anything else. The driver was clearly in a hurry (he didn’t have long anymore), though he always drove safely and never without a smile._

_That evening, Kihyun arrived at his hometown._

_\--_

After searching him, they conclude the man is indeed wounded and unarmed. Hyungwon puts away his gun, though he does not ease up on his suspicions.

 

“How did you get away?”

 

“I hid here, and eventually they stopped looking. This was a few days ago…” The man says, trailing off.

 

“Alright. Well. They’re not looking for us, so, we gotta go. Good luck with that.” They’re running out of daylight, and Hyungwon is running out of patience, and he motions for Kihyun to leave.

 

“ _No._ Wait. Please.” The man’s voice cracks, edging forward.

 

Hyungwon reaches for his gun.

 

"Please. You can't leave me here."

 

The man clings to Kihyun's leg, his voice thick with despair.

 

"Step. Away. From my tiny friend." Hyungwon growls, pressing the barrel of his gun against the back of the man's head. The man whimpers, crawling back into the corner they had found him in.

 

“Please. I don’t wanna die. Please. Please.” He begs, bursting into tears. His hair is caked to his head with blood and dirt. The tears stream down, leaving crimson streaks on his cheeks.

 

Hyungwon shakes his head, but Kihyun hesitates.

 

It had been the kindness of a stranger that had saved his life. (And maybe, just maybe, had that kindness come earlier, he wouldn’t’ve been too late.)

 

_Maybe he could’ve saved them._

_Maybe he could’ve seen them. (One last time)_

 

Kihyun decides.

Hyungwon groans.

The stranger yelps.

“We should help him.” Kihyun says firmly.

 

And that’s that.


	7. Of help and Hoseok

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Hyungwon whispers angrily. His voice is a little too loud but he doesn’t care if the stranger hears him or not. “This is not the time to be adopting strays.”

 

“Oh yeah? Well, when _is_ the time?” Kihyun asks sarcastically.

 

“Fucking _NEVER_.” Hyungwon hisses. “He’s wounded, and he’s wanted, and he’s going to get us killed. What does he bring to the table? **Nothing**.” He jabs his finger at Kihyun.

 

“A-Actually….” The stranger interjects, “I’ve got medicine.” He fishes a sporting bag from the corner. It’s filled to the brim with bottles and gauze and other medical equipment.

 

Hyungwon rakes a hand through his hair in annoyance.

 

“Jesus. Start with that next time, will ya?!”

\--

_When Hyungwon woke up, someone was towering over him. He wasn’t sure if it was Death, or Whatever-Was-Out-There, or something else, and he wasn’t sure if he cared at this point. His mouth felt dryer than the Sahara desert, and his body felt so hollow he was afraid he might start floating soon._

 

_Either that, or die. Locked up in a library, unaware of what was going out in the world._

 

_The something or someone materialized into the shape of a man and extended his hand, and when Hyungwon focused on it he could see he was holding something._

 

_A clear container._

_A soft sloshing._

_Drops of liquid rolled into view._

 

_Water._

 

_It wasn’t much, but it was more than he’d seen in weeks, and his insides churned in anticipation. The stranger helped bring the water bottle to his mouth (his own hands shook too much, and he couldn’t reach his arms up that high anymore)._

\--

Hyungwon rummages through the bag. Hoseok really had stolen a little bit of everything-- this amount of medicine was a valuable treasure. More valuable than gold, or diamonds, or the most expensive sports car. More valuable than a human life.

 

"Fine. You're in." Hyungwon sighs. "But if they catch up to us, we're leaving your ass behind."

 

The man shoots a worried look over at Kihyun, who just shrugs before turning around to look out of the small window behind them. "With or without asses, it's going to have to wait until tomorrow. There is not enough daylight left to make it all the way back."

 

Hyungwon groans. He really wasn't looking forward to spending the night on the cold, concrete floor (but they couldn't risk the couches, they were too much in sight)

 

"This is all _your_ fault, you, you--..... what's your name anyway?"

 

The man looks down at his hands, looking absolutely pathetic. "H-Hoseok." He says, quietly.

 

_(In another life, he had been known as Wonho. In another life, he had tasted fame, if only just for a moment. In another life he had stood on stage, thinking nothing could ever bring him down.)_

 

( _He had been wrong.)_

\--

_It was just a small piece of bread, but his body heaved forward as if he just had gotten punched in the gut. He could almost hear it falling, hitting the walls of his stomach with a loud clunking noise, the sound of a rock thrown down a well, down and down it went._

 

_In reality there were no echoes, no splashing as the rock hit the water, before it finally sank to the bottom. But there was rumbling, the sound of a body screaming for nourishment, the protest when he ate too fast._

 

_The bread fell with such force that it almost hurt, it was dry and stale and yet it was the most delicious thing that Hyungwon had ever tasted. Scratch that, he didn't even taste anything, and it was still the best meal he had ever had._

 

_The stranger looked at him with a mixed expression of wonder and concern. He hadn't had much to share, and their next meals would be meager and nearly non-existant, but he just couldn't let him die. (Not this time. Not again.)_

\--

**Communication.**

 

**Something that was so simple, before. We had become so spoiled, with our smartphones and our laptops and our very own digital world.**

 

**Cell service was one of the very first things to go. Suddenly we realized how reliant we were. Suddenly we realized how vulnerable we were. Suddenly we realized-- but it was too late.**

 

**Suddenly we realized we didn't know how to communicate, when left to our own devices. Suddenly we were helpless, grasping for straws. Things we had taken for granted, suddenly, gone.**

\--

Hyungwon sits down against the wall opposite of Hoseok. He makes a point of it not to sit next to him. Kihyun hesitates, in the end choosing to sit next to Hyungwon because a known evil is still better than an unknown one. (for now)

 

He pops open the lid of one particularly musty smelling can of beans, shoving it to the middle of the floor. "Dinner, ladies and gentlemen." They eat the beans with half a bottle of filtered lake water. It was less than subpar, but it was better than nothing.

 

As the moon rises in the pitch black skies above, they lay down on the freezing, hard concrete. Hyungwon feels the cold seep into his bones, a familiar feeling, an awful feeling. Birds call out in the distance, and Hyungwon hopes that Minhyuk won't be too worried. He turns on his back, eyes trained on the ceiling, following the cracks and dots until he falls into a light, fitful sleep.

 

(Every night, he is on the edge of death. Every night, he feels like his skin is pulled too tight over his bones. The overwhelmingly hollow feeling-- the hunger that turns into pain and then into nothing. The quiet. The darkness. The emptiness.)

\--

_It took two full days before Hyungwon even had the strength to properly sit up again. He hadn't really realized how close to dying he had been. Or maybe he did, but he hadn't wanted to acknowledge it. He hadn't wanted to give it that power over him._

 

_Death had tried and failed to get to him-- now he was finally ready to live again._

 

_To go home. To see his family again. To go back to school, and live his life. At least, those were all the things he had in mind._

 

_Instead, they ran._

 

_When Hyungwon first stepped outside, he didn't know what he saw. The world he once knew was gone. In less than two weeks his whole world had vanished, replaced by a bleak, barren dystopia._

_When Hyungwon first stepped outside, he didn't know what he saw. The world he once knew was gone. In less than two weeks his whole world had vanished, replaced by a bleak, barren dystopia._

 

_He no longer had a home to return to. His family was gone, and he would probably never know if they left or if they had simply died. They visited his house as soon as he had enough strength to move, but it gave him no answers. Things were missing, but it was unclear if they had been taken by his family or thieves._

 

_They couldn't stay to wait and find out. He left a note, just in case._

 

_And then he left. He no longer had a life to return to, so the only way to go was forward._

 

_(The stranger's name was Minhyuk. It was the first time he saved his life, and it wouldn't be the last.)_

**Author's Note:**

> NYELLOOO  
> I've been watching 3 seasons of The Walking Dead this past week  
> and here we are now
> 
> This is going to take a while so bear with me  
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated ;w;  
> or come yell at me on twitter @Everydayishark


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